On Saturday, I attended a lovely baby shower while BA joined the dad-to-be for some drinks with the dudes (his deal sounded better...motion to make baby showers at bars...seconded?) Actually, the shower was fun--she got a major haul!--and the party favors were this insane homemade caramel corn, so...I'm not complaining.
Point is, we were both busy, so Mr. C needed alternate supervision. As luck would have it, there was a matinee preseason hockey game, and my dad (foolishly) volunteered to take the kiddo. I think he's a couple years early on making that an actual activity, but I wasn't about to argue.
In preparation, we practiced wearing the headphones.
That morning, Jules gave him a hat to wear to the game. He insisted on taking it to nap.
(I removed it after taking this photo).
A big time was had by all. Doc reported "he especially liked the BOOMs!" Sadly, Gnash the mascot is on injured reserve with a broken leg (occupational hazard?) so I made a liar out of myself when I promised C he would get to see Gnash.
However, he got to see a picture of Gnash in a wheelchair, which I'm told was just as exciting. And, while I had prepped Mr. C that Doc does NOT buy treats at games, he came home with a little stuffed Gnash, dressed as a mumpmin and just the right size for little hands. Grandparenthood is clearly making Doc soft.
Apparently he had SO much fun that he is now obsessed with all things hockey. Pulls the jersey out of the laundry basket every day--I have to wash it nightly. Requests hockey on tv; cries when it's not on (it's never on--the season hasn't started). Then requests football and last night settled for baseball(?)
Carries the small Gnash around everywhere. Insists on wearing his hockey hat (we found a kid one, but it's still too big). Found two koozies in the kitchen and carries those around, too.
We've created a monster. For at least as long as his tiny attention span lasts. Fang fingers, y'all.
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